


Silk and Cotton

by Bartkartoffeln



Series: Overwatch [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Assassin - Freeform, Blood, Borrowing Clothes, M/M, Stab Wound, mission
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 15:37:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7579684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bartkartoffeln/pseuds/Bartkartoffeln
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hanzo Shimada and Jesse McCree are on the hunt for an objective - only that each of them has been hired by a different company. When they are busy fighting each other, the objective vanishes, forcing both of them to work together temporarily. Naturally, this leads to some 'misunderstandings'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Borrowed Clothes

**Author's Note:**

> This developed from a prompt I saw on tumblr and is very much flash fic style. I don't know how long this is gonna be. I will add chapters as my muse sees fit and hope you enjoy yourself!  
> This is not beta-read.

Whatever that thing was called the Shimada guy was wearing, it sure was comfy. Some nice material it was, probably some silk stuff, and pretty neat against bare skin.  
McCree grinned and lit up his cigaret. Inhaling the smoke deeply, he put his feet on the top of the balcony fence and wrapped Hanzo’s kimono? Silk tunic? Morning gown?  Whatever it was called, he wrapped it tighter around his chest and shifted the chair he was sitting on, teetering on only two of its legs.

They were a week into their ‘mission’, if one could call it that. Actually, they both had been hired by different organizations to do the same job. They met when they tried to take the objective, believed the other the enemy, had a nice little stand off and finally, after the objective got away, decided to call a truce. After sorting things out they ended up with ‘Fine, we will do this together’. Considering the fact that both of them were actually solo players, this was definitely A Thing. Question was only: who would get the objective in the end?

McCree took another deep drag and scratched his beard. Shimada’s tracking skill certainly was better than his, that was for sure. And he was also a lot better at the whole stealth thing. So far, it was good they worked together, because otherwise, Jesse wasn’t that certain he’d located the objective after losing it the first time.  
So, technically, Shimada could have easily just gone his way and done this whole thing himself. Except if there was something, the Samurai needed him for. Which was good. Maybe he could turn the tides after all.

The Cowboy smiled to himself, then cursed as the ash of his cigaret nearly fell onto the borrowed silk thing. Hastily, he wiped off the grey flakes. Of course, his room mate chose this moment to enter the balcony.

“Have you seen my ki-” Hanzo stopped mid-word, his eyes narrowing. McCree smiled at him in his most charming fashion, all the more when he noticed what the archer was wearing.  
“You will hand back that kimono this instant, McCree. Or I will consider shooting you where it hurts most,” Shimada hissed, his voice colored with a beautiful Japanese accent.

Jesse tilted his chair back to a more behaved position and stood. Damn that Shimada guy looked hot in his red serape. Suited him perfectly.  
With a wide grin, he took off his hat and shrugged. “What? I couldn’t find my poncho, so I just grabbed the first thing lying around. It’s really comfy, the kimono stuff. Nice feel and all.”  
Hanzo glared at him. Clearly, the Ninja guy was not amused.

“Oh come on, Shimada. It’s no big deal. You found a good replacement, hm?” McCree smiled and pointed to the red cloth wrapped around the other man's shoulders. Hanzo made a disapproving sound.  
“Fine.” With a sigh, Jesse began to take off the kimono, baring his broad shoulders and manly chest, while holding the stare of his ‘partner’. Who clenched his teeth. Turned away.

“You can keep it for now. It stinks of smoke. I will not wear something that has been defiled like this,” Hanzo spat, vanishing back into their tiny hotel room.

Jesse smirked. “Says the man wearing my serape, huh?”


	2. Wrong Target

It turned out both of them would wear some of the other’s clothes still when they went to sleep. McCree was a little intrigued by the fact that Shimada didn’t claim back his kimono at least now.

Instead, the man wrapped himself in the cotton serape, ignoring him as best as he could while staying meticulously on his half of the bed.

Well, that was just fine with him. Though it probably wasn’t the brightest decision to further piss off his mission partner.

McCree closed his eyes and committed himself to giving back the kimono in the morrow. Neatly folded and with an apology. Yup, sounded like a good plan.

Sighing contently, he closed his eyes, letting his mind wander until he fell in a light sleep. It was a pretty neat state, being asleep enough to rest mind and body, but still having somewhat of a perception of his surroundings. When you worked as a mercenary, it was a skill born out of necessity. You needed to stay alert at all times, depending on what the job demanded and on who went after you. Pissing off people and stealing their stuff usually came with a hunt afterwards. Him being the prey.  
  
A soft breeze rustled the light curtains, caressing Jesse’s half-naked chest and face. Odd, he thought. Didn’t they shut the balcony doors? Frowning in his sleep, his body stirred. Beside him, the weight of Hanzo’s body shifted. McCrees exceptionally good ears picked up another thing: the muffled sound of a blade being unsheathed. It was ever so faint, almost inaudible. But just as the soft breeze, it didn’t belong in this room.  
He jerked awake, his hand going for the gun beside his bed, when someone thrust down a matted-black sword, aiming for his heart.  
  
It was deflected by the tip of an arrow, finding McCree’s arm instead. The steel buried itself in the flesh, missing the bone by an inch, causing very discomforting pain. He grunted and shot.  
The dark clad person toppled over, collapsing across his legs, spilling blood everywhere.  
“Well, fuck you,” the cowboy cursed.  
  
Shimada was on his feet, dragging the intruder from the bed, laying the assassin on the floor. He inspected the person briefly. Frowning, he locked eyes with McCree. “This one was after me. She must have mistaken you.”  
  
Jesse growled. “The heck? I am a westerner, and much bigger than you, gods be damned. How the fuck could that asshole mistake me for y- oh.”  
Looking at the kimono he was wearing, it dawned on him. The damn thing and the darkness obviously were enough to make her think he was Hanzo Shimada. Didn’t speak much for her eyesight or skill, though.  
“So. When you said I could keep your kimono, did you already anticipate being attacked?” the cowboy drawled.  
  
For the first time, he saw the Shimada guy smile. “Oh, I anticipate being attacked every night. This will serve as a very important lesson for you. Next time, you will think twice before ‘borrowing’ my kimono.”  
McCree’s jaw dropped a little. Then he put away the gun, laughing.


End file.
